


A Magic Spark

by AuthorToBeNamedLater



Series: Keeping Up With The Raptors [25]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Sports, Gen, Hockey, Raptors, Seattle, Seattle Raptors, Sports, United States Women's National Ice Hockey Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorToBeNamedLater/pseuds/AuthorToBeNamedLater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seemingly random game of one-on-one with Gunnar leads to Donna making a life-changing decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Magic Spark

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of what I hope will be a side story in the Raptors' 2013-2014 season (if I ever get them out of 2012-2013). Doesn't have much bearing on the overall story of this season. Title is from "Power of The Dream" by Celine Dion.
> 
> There really is a Junior Women's Hockey League. They do not have a team in Seattle. For purposes of this tale, they do.
> 
> In addition, the Raptors now have a tumblr. All the fic is there, along with character bios and some non-Raptors-related stuff. Give me a follow, ask me anything, and enjoy: http://authortobenamedlater.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'm gonna get these guys out of this season someday, I promise.

A few times each season, the Raptors opened up Rand Morgan Arena for friends and family to have a good time after the players were done practicing. Once Coach blew the whistle, the doors opened and wives, girlfriends, and children filled the ice.

Hank was preparing to give four-year-old Charlie a piggyback ride when Gunnar Norgaard slid up to the boards. “Hey, Donna,” the Raptors' backup goalie said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. When he had the eldest Sheridan's attention, Gunnar pointed to the net at the far end of the ice. “Best three out of five?”

Donna finished tying her dark hair into a ponytail and said, “Um...sure.”

“Daddy, Daddy, can we skate?” Charlie asked.

“Hold on, son. We're gonna watch Donna first.” Hank settled Charlie on his hip.

“What's she doing?”

“She's gonna play hockey with Gunnar.”

Donna grabbed a stick and a puck from the box near the boards, skated to the red line, and took off like a shot toward Gunnar. She aimed high above his glove side and the shot ricocheted off the boards.

“Hey, Donna's got quite a shot,” Nik Bakstrom marveled from Hank's side as Donna collected the puck and skated back to the red line.

Hank nodded, a little fatherly pride blooming in his chest. “You should see her line drive.” Donna had been splitting her time between hockey and softball all through high school and had plans to attend Eastern Washington University on a softball scholarship. In Hank's opinion, this was a foolish idea. His older daughter was a fine softball player, but she was an exceptional hockey talent and Hank didn't just say that because she was his little girl. Donna gotten Katie's speed and Hank's shooting accuracy—a pretty lethal combination. USA Hockey had even come calling, but Donna had politely declined although she was the standout star of her advanced Junior Women's Hockey League team.

Neither Hank nor Katie could figure it out, but they weren't going to push.

Donna glided back to the red line and set off toward Gunnar again. This time she slid the puck through Gunnar's five-hole.

A smattering of applause and stick taps came from the Raptors who were watching. Donna gave a small curtsy as she rounded the net and set up for her third shot.

“And she wants to play softball?” Nik asked.

Hank shrugged.

Donna's next attempt rocketed past Gunnar's stick and into the back of the net. By now most of the Raptors and their guests were watching.

Gunnar blocked and covered Donna's fourth try.

“Come on Donna! One more!” Mikey hollered.

Gunnar lifted his mask. “You guys aren't helping!”

Hank saw Donna try not to laugh while she glided back to the red line. She took off again and tried a wraparound shot. Gunnar made the initial save but Donna jabbed at the rebound until it went in.

Applause and chirps at Gunnar rang out from across the ice.

“Hey, you just beat an NHL goalie on three out of five,” Nik said to Donna when she returned her stick to the boards.

“Backup goalie,” Sandy chirped.

Gunnar gave the Raptors' starter a dirty look. Donna just giggled.

“Daddy, can we skate now?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, sure. Here we go.” Hank set Charlie on the floor and crouched down to let his son clamber onto his back.

.

.

.

“Mom? Dad?”

Katie Sheridan looked up from her coffee. She and Hank were sitting at the island in the kitchen, taking advantage of Daniel sleeping in a bit to enjoy a cup of coffee before the Raptors' morning skate. Now their oldest child was standing in the kitchen, still in her pajamas. Donna didn't even look like she'd brushed her hair yet.

“Donna, what are you doing up?” Hank asked. “It's 6:00.”

“I want to go to Sochi.”

Katie nearly dropped her mug on the granite counter top. “What?”

“I want to go to Sochi,” Donna repeated.

“Next year?” Hank asked. “For the Olympics?”

“No, I wanna go there on vacation,” Donna deadpanned. “Of course I want to go there for the Olympics.”

Katie rubbed her eyes. This was entirely too much “What brought this on?”

“It's been coming on for awhile,” Donna admitted.

This didn't really surprise Katie. Donna always played her cards close to the vest. Maybe too close.

“Sweetheart,” Hank started. “Is this because you beat Gunnar yesterday?”

“No,” Donna said. “Well, kind of but...I've been thinking about it since Christmas.”

“Why?” Hank pressed. “You've been dead set on softball for a year. Why hockey now?”

Donna sat in the chair across from her parents. “I realized I was avoiding hockey because of you guys,” she said. “Because I didn't want to just do it because you both played. But that's a pretty silly reason.”

It was, Katie thought.

“And I did beat Gunnar three out of five yesterday,” Donna added with a little smile.

“Honey, this isn't going to be easy,” Katie counseled.

“It's the Olympics, Mom. It's not supposed to be easy.”

“You're going to be up against girls who've been working toward Sochi for four years.”

“You almost came back for Nagano and you hadn't played since college,” Donna pointed out.

“That was a long time ago, Donna,” Katie said. “The competition is much tougher now.”

“OK, say you do this,” Hank broke in. “You'll just...switch to hockey at Eastern Washington?”

Donna pursed her lips and looked at the table. “I need a better program if I want to go to Sochi.”

“Like where?” Katie asked, a weight settling in her stomach.

Donna looked up with a grimace. “BC?”

“Boston? No way,” Katie said flatly.

“Mom--”

Hank put a hand on her arm. “Katie--”

“It's the best program in the country,” Donna said.

“You'll need to apply, and try out--” Katie rattled off.

“I know how it works,” Donna said, and Katie could hear a stubborn edge settling into her voice. “I've been looking at it for months.”

“You don't even know if they'll take you!”

“So I'm not even supposed to try?” Donna sounded downright offended now.

“Hold it,” Hank said. He looked at Katie, then at Donna. “Your mom and I have to talk about this.”

Donna didn't look pleased, but grumbled a “Fine,” and went back up to her room.

As soon as the door closed, Hank whirled toward Katie. “Could you have been a little more understanding about that?”

Katie crossed her arms, affronted. “I didn't hear you giving me any help. Are we going to let her do this?”

“I don't think we can stop her, Katie,” Hank said quietly.

“We're paying.”

“Do we really want to go there?” Hank asked. “Our daughter just came in here, told us she wants to be an Olympian, and we squashed her like a bug. What's one reason we shouldn't give her our blessing on this?”

“It's a big commitment.”

“I'm pretty sure she knows that.”

“I don't want it to blow up on her,” Katie whispered.

“Because it blew up on you? Is that what you're afraid of?”

Katie clenched her jaw. She had missed most of the Lady Buffaloes' season her senior year because she was pregnant with Donna. That season had featured a championship run—which Colorado had lost, but Katie had still hated missing it. When women's hockey made its Olympic debut in 1998 Katie had attempted a comeback, but she couldn't train for the Olympics and raise Donna and Ashley with Hank always on the road. Katie hated to admit it but both events left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.

“She'll be so young,” Katie fretted. “Coming in late, they may not even notice her.”

“Katie.” Hank leaned forward slightly and gave Katie the look he always gave her when he meant business. “Donna may not make that team, but you and I both know they will notice her. She wants this, she'll work harder than anyone else and _make_ them notice her.”

“It's such a gamble.” Katie shook her head.

“Every dream's a gamble. Your gamble didn't end the way you wanted it to. That doesn't mean it won't end better for Donna. She has to make this decision for herself, and it is not fair to discourage her because it didn't work out for you,” Hank said.

Katie knew her husband was right. But she couldn't stand the idea of her little girl going to Boston. “Boston's so far away.” Katie looked at her coffee.

“I don't want her to go to Boston either,” Hank said. “And I don't want her to end up heartbroken. But we can't stop her. We have to let her make this choice. Do we have any reason not to?”

Katie shook her head. Donna didn't make rash decisions. If she'd decided to go to Boston and try for the Olympics, she'd researched every angle and committed it to serious prayer. And, truthfully, Katie was starting to feel pretty rotten about writing her daughter off so quickly.

“All right then,” Hank said. “Let's go upstairs and talk to her.”

.

.

.

“So Donna dropped a bomb on us this morning.”

Andor looked sideways at Hank as they both laced up their skates prior to morning skate at Boeing Arena. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she wants to go to Sochi. Decided she wants to go to Boston College and play hockey.”

Andor sat up. “Wow. What did you and Katie have to say to that?”

“What could we say?” Hank knotted his laces. “'No, you can't move across the country and chase an Olympic dream'?”

It was a good point, Andor thought. “Is this just because she beat Gunnar yesterday?”

Gunnar, having just entered the dressing room, glanced warily at his teammates. “What'd I do?”

“You might have just sent Donna Sheridan to Sochi,” Andor said dryly.

“What?”

Hank sat up. “Donna decided she wants to go to Sochi.”

“And this is my doing?” Gunnar asked.

“Well, not entirely.” Hank grabbed a stick and began taping the blade. “She said she's been at it for awhile.” He gave Gunnar a little smile. “But I do think you had something to do with it.”

“Hm.” Gunnar shrugged and made his way to his stall. “Cool.”

“How do you and Katie feel about all this?” Andor asked.

“Katie took some convincing,” Hank admitted. “It's not easy, your daughter walks in the kitchen and announces she wants to go to Boston.”

“Mm, yeah, you're gonna send her to Bruins country?” Sandy, the Quebec native and former Montreal Canadien, piped up.

Andor placed his hands on his hips and regarded the goaltender with mock indignation. “Got a problem with that?” Andor had played the first 10 years of his career—and his first of three Stanley Cup losses—in Boston.

Sandy pumped a fist in the air. _“Ole! Bleu, blanc, et rouge!”_

“And you?” Andor asked Hank.

“Me?”

“I never wanted to push, but Donna belongs in hockey.” Hank looked at his fellow defenseman. “You've seen her play; tell me I'm wrong.”

Andor shook his head. “I can't.”

“I gotta say, I never saw the Sochi thing coming.” Hank shook his head.

“You never saw the NHL coming,” Andor added. “Sometimes these things surprise us.”

Hank pointed a finger at Andor. “You have a point.”

“You think Donna's gonna make it?” Andor asked.

“I don't know,” Hank answered. “Gotta let her try, though, right?”

 


End file.
